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Thursday, 30 May 2013

Gone with the wind

It was a lovely summer’s afternoon that Sunday when we sat
as a family and enjoyed a sumptuous Sunday lunch. We had roast beef as well as
fried chicken which had been marinated in all sorts of flavorsome spices and
herbs; accompanied by an assortment of vegetables including of course the
dreaded Brussels sprouts.

I have never understood why God created this particular
vegetable; but create it He did. No doubts He has His reasons and one day we’ll
discover how beneficial it is for us and how silly and uneducated we have been
to dislike it so. However, for now at least, most people I know don’t seem to
like it.

I don’t count myself amongst them, of course. I’m neutral in
this respect. I would eat Brussels sprouts if offered to me but I would not go
out of my way to ask for them in a gourmet restaurant.

But that Sunday, Brussels sprouts were on the menu. I
believe they were mixed with walnut pieces and fried onions, if memory serves
me right.

We have had Auntie Gertrude from Australia staying with us for a few days so
we also invited Father Frederic to Sunday lunch. The two had never met each
other so we sat them next to each other around the large dinner table.

It was a lovely meal with pleasant conversation on no
particular subject and all subjects that came to mind.

After lunch, we all moved to the living room to enjoy a nice
cup of coffee and continue our discussion.

Father Frederic sat on the sofa leaving a little room for
someone else to sit beside him and a few minutes later, as well all made
ourselves comfortable, Auntie Gertrude came in and sat beside the priest.

Sadly, and embarrassingly for her, as she lowered herself in
the well upholstered settee she accidentally broke wind with a thunderous loud
noise.

I should mention at this stage that Father Frederic is
somewhat hard of hearing; and he therefore did not
notice nor pay attention to what had just happened.

I immediately tried to cover Auntie’s embarrassment by
asking him loudly some Ecumenical question that came to mind.

As I leaned towards him speaking a little louder than usual
I noticed his face going a little pale as the tell-tale strong smell reached my
olfactory senses.

He looked at me accusingly as Auntie got out of the room
saying “By dingo cobber! I forgot the biscuits in the kitchen … they're special I brought from Adelaide ... I’ll go and get them!”

As she got out of the room, followed by the rest of the family, she added somewhat undiplomatically "they are not as bland as those English biscuits!"

I was left alone with the kind old heavenly priest and the smell from hell.

Suddenly, the Ecumenical question became totally irrelevant
as my mind went blank and my hurt pride and wounded honor urged me to shout at
the top of my voice “It was not me!!! It was her!!! She did it and went out
leaving me sharing her stench.”

But being the stupid gentleman which I am, I said nothing. I
kept quiet and protected a lady’s pride and honor by my silence.

“Would you like a biscuit?” I asked Father picking up the large
serving dish which was there all the time.

“That’s a lovely piano …” replied Father Frederic getting up
from his seat and moving towards the open window. “Our church organ needs
mending … it doesn’t pump so much wind in the pipes as it used to.”

Somehow, the uneasy conversation which followed and the
fresh air from the open window, diluted the heavy atmosphere in the room as eventually
the rest of the family rejoined us accompanied by an innocent looking Auntie
Gertrude.

Since that day, Father Frederic keeps his distance from me
whenever we meet.

Music

RICHARD THE LION LIVER

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